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"disasterous" poems
*you stole my heart and you locked it in a cage, unable to escape your dangerous, disasterous claws.*
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
-disasterous (locked heart)
Waking up seems like a futile effort to me. To be in this realm, such a pity for all mortals. As to one day, all of them will suffer the fate of the unlucky ones. Oh, how the world is polluted nowdays. Mayhem, mayhem, and more mayhem. Corruption, bloodbaths and destruction for the race to see which is the alpha-male. In the end, it is the survival of the most deceitful. In the end, I am still on my bed. My bones ache while my muscles creak. Waking up is still a futile effort to me. Sheilding from the disasterous world using my comfy blanket, seems like a good idea. But, if all of us were to slumber, than who will straighten things out? I arise and go, to face the polluted world. There, my legacy awaits as another **** sapien. That will uphold the truth as all if us are responsible, of how polluted the world is.
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
The Polluted World
dear daddy, you won't recognize that title for a few more months still, but yet it is me. this is "your baby"! i can recognize your voice, though. just this morning, i asked mommy, "where's my daddy?" mommy said, "i'm not even sure." she then explained to me about you helping 'america' put out a disasterous fire. "memo of love" i am writing to tell you that i care... let's get to know each other better. this morning, i showered a brilliant sunrise with all the colors of the rainbow into your eyes, hoping to get your attention. but you hardly noticed! that afternoon, as you sat with your friends, i warmed you in sunshine... flowers still blooming with God's love. yet, you didn't notice me! i wanted to speak with you so i shook the world with my heart of wonder and made you a beautiful rainbow. yet, you never noticed me! tonight, i tried desperately to move you with a full moon to lighten your sad face and a cool breeze to delight you. you wouldn't believe your eyes, unless you heard it from me... i even put you and mommy's star out, hoping to see a warming smile upon your face you never looked up! in your sleep, i gave you your dreams so lovely that a smile then appeared on your face. i was amazed! i'm here to watch over you, to guide you, to reassure mommy, and to love you. when you are ready for me, please remember i'm waiting for you, in the care of mommy's love for the both of us!!! she loves you daddy- and take care, i'll be watching you!!! love, your little one, "your baby" 1988 COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey, ~Angelmom~
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
Dear Daddy "Memo of Love"
dear daddy, you won't recognize that title for a few more months still, but yet it is me. this is "your baby"! i can recognize your voice, though. just this morning, i asked mommy, "where's my daddy?" mommy said, "i'm not even sure." she then explained to me about you helping 'america' put out a disasterous fire. "memo of love" i am writing to tell you that i care... let's get to know each other better. this morning, i showered a brilliant sunrise with all the colors of the rainbow into your eyes, hoping to get your attention. but you hardly noticed! that afternoon, as you sat with your friends, i warmed you in sunshine... flowers still blooming with God's love. yet, you didn't notice me! i wanted to speak with you so i shook the world with my heart of wonder and made you a beautiful rainbow. yet, you never noticed me! tonight, i tried desperately to move you with a full moon to lighten your sad face and a cool breeze to delight you. you wouldn't believe your eyes, unless you heard it from me... i even put you and mommy's star out, hoping to see a warming smile upon your face you never looked up! in your sleep, i gave you your dreams so lovely that a smile then appeared on your face. i was amazed! i'm here to watch over you, to guide you, to reassure mommy, and to love you. when you are ready for me, please remember i'm waiting for you, in the care of mommy's love for the both of us!!! she loves you daddy- and take care, i'll be watching you!!! love, your little one, "your baby" 1988 COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey, ~Angelmom~
Continue reading...
40
We go through the cycle, exhausting ourselves with apologies over feelings we're not supposed to have. We numbly pick up the sharp, jagged pieces of our broken hearts and mindlessly wipe up the blood. We inhale and take in the aroma of one another, a haunting scent reminding us how to feel. And we share all the torn, tattered pieces of our disasterous days, because facing them together reminds us it's real. We push the boundary, we cross the line. We take a punch to the gut and a stab to the heart one more time. This masochistic charade, a constant temptation to get high on sensation, forever plaguing our fragile hearts and feeble minds.
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Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 8:50 AM UTC
Exhausted
Loving you. I apologize not. For I'm sincere about doing it to you. You've been everything I requested in my life. So I apologize not for loving you. If we should ever depart. No negative words with come from my heart. For at one time in my eyes. You was a great example of a shining star. Belive me. No disasterous poems. No get back at you book. Cause I hold you highly after all the harm. But we still together. So I apologize not for loving you. You're the dream. That jumped from my imagination. A total joy to know. And of course to love. So I apologize not. No way. No how.
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 10:12 AM UTC
I Apologize Not
We're weathering this unbecoming world of words. In the womby vortex of disgusting speech. We're not the movement in which your mouth commoves in disgusting misuse and hellacious abuse. Shame on you! We're already sickened by your pageantry and similar symbolism, simile, and pedantic matters of the hand. Someone should have stopped you. Your shoes don't fit and are rather unflattering. We're well rested Reader's of the greater digest and your context is unsuitably off. We've noted this recipe of disasterous dactyls and abhorrent lines that masquerade limerick like a proverb when it ought not be an idiom. We're weary to walk in your idiot-dom, your startlingly stark choice of anti-matter, and material of unsettling misuse so indigestibally obtuse. She says you've manufactured passages with verbose tapestries of word laxatives. We're unimpressed by how many fuxks you've given. Lessons like these are earned not given, not learned but lived. We're not meant to cure your ails, only forward your adjectives, and collect your mail.
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May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
The Adonis Children
She attempted to burn her skin with the mere faucet But no matter how warm the water became the only marks on her skin were those previously left by the hands of the rusty blade - hidden deep within her nightmares She lay naked on the shower floor ****** legs and ****** arms spread out in front of her and only she could make out the difference between her tears and the running water This child knew in that moment that her every second on this earth had been a waste. If only her mother, or the man that claimed to love her knew just how empty she could feel they would surely want no part in her disasterous real So she lay down in the shower as the water ran cold and prayed for it drown her with the small hope that there was still a God to show
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
Disasterous Real
weak willed, i listen to the collision of manic thoughts that resurface like a neverending disease whenever you are mentioned. blue.. the whirl of memorys start, and in the mass hysteria of mental chaos i feel my fingers slip over the keys to write to you. of what is not important. simply a few meaningless words will set me up above the clouds in a serene distant state. the promise of that momentary bliss is enough to keep my reasonable side hidden away... she'll come out later, and when she comes so will the negative ideas. the "why did i say thats", and "what is he thinkings" all of which will riot through the clouds ripping them apart until i fall and smash back into newly cold reality. of course by then the conversation will have ended and i wont know what you think of the crazed words i somehow managed to smash into thoughts that sounded like sentences at the time, but now look like the disasterous scribbled rought draft of a 5th grade report over an unknown topic. so with the last of my resolve i hold down the backspace key until all of the mangled writing is gone. you of course have no knowledge of this inner turmoil because i never hit enter.. i tell myself thats for the best but im not sure if i believe that, then again if you lie to yourself long enough you can believe anything. so why not, it's only survival..
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Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 12:50 PM UTC
Blue
let's hear it for     these angsty          weepy poems from our broken hearts   well       maybe we should pretty boys       and pretty girls we forget    all of us how fragile we are      let's          isolate ourselves             in our feelings (they hurt)    when we forget ourselves and love     too hard and miss     too much and want     too suddenly without knowing    just how deep we're digging ourselves       when it hits, it hurts our words   are our     defense we mean them i mean them                    for you. It's worth it, this                        fragility for our childish bliss      in reckless, disasterous                                                       abandon.
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Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 5:14 PM UTC
maybe we should (digging)
Even if I'm broken, I've got my heaven around me With the blue eyes of my sky I've so gruelingly waited in this water as my legs began to give out Praying for this rain of mine to subside Inside, I see the warmth of your smile under the halo 'Cause after all, only the beautiful breach Heaven's Doors White dove etched in my wrist flew to your lips to unlock your heart of its holy water So please taint my blood though it's not thicker than water Chase these chains to make this being afraid into I'm afraid but I've got Heaven underneath me One disasterous paradise within me that you dig for and find my Hell is seven oceans deeper than The sky is full_ but even if I'm broken I've got my heaven surrounding me as your blue eyes wipe away the crush of my tides Please let me call you love Because even when I'm broken You are my heaven that surrounds me.
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
Australian Sydney without the Australian
Somethings, we can easily do. But it also takes a strong will too. If words you said. Offended someone. Then it might take times for them to forgive someone. If an adulterous affair created strives. Then you already know forgiveness won't happen over night. Some apologies are too little, too late. Similar to a disasterous date. The one that requested it. Or set it up. Can over their apologies. Still, with many things in life. We know it too little, too late.
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Oct 3, 2012
Oct 3, 2012 at 9:54 AM UTC
Too Little, Too Late
/// 0 (   •  •  ) /   \ ###### ?   Love  ? -- The true lover NEVER gets hurt !! ( this we all know !!) -- THE PAIN   ( which we talk of so incessantly and childishly ) ALWAYS comes back upon the false lover And is felt ONLY by the false lover !! // THE DENIAL OF THIS OBVIOUS FACT IS THE ESSENCE OF THE POEMS ON HELLO POETRY /// what is called LOVE here Is merely POSSESSIVE INDULGENCE // The REAL FEAR  that we have is of Actually BEING LOVED // For in the LIGHT of the TRUTH OF LOVE all our games are exposed and we are simply Left standing in the existential terror That is our society // We mask this actual terror by Playing the GAME presented And playing it with such RELIGIOUS ZEAL that it tends to temporarily Protect us from the knowledge Of our EXTREME VULNERABILITY //// the results are disasterous we sink farther and farther into Depression And play the GAME more intently To ease the shame •• We should change the story ! We should make it ours ! We should LIVE ! WE MAY SURVIVE
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
seeing into the " pain "
Lying down, wrapped in a simple ribbon of cloth, I sigh This connfusion is a displacement of my time here. Thus I become disenchanted and unclean. Not willing to open my eyes and accept the causes around me. The burdens of rapture surround me. It is not clear. Are they ample beginnings or disasterous ends? With a small dose of peppered reality setting in. I sigh What holds the ribbon together is just a simple knot. A ball of deception which allows no movement. Tangled but organized. A single thread of wool wrapped tight, so tight it ruptures our core. Coarsing it count on dismal displays of solitude and empty hands It is not our fears that scare us, it is being bound up with no casual effect that makes us surrender to ourselves. I stay wrapped in a ribbon. Eyes covered dark, Soft and secure. I take a deep breath. Then I sigh one last time.
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Oct 23, 2024
Oct 23, 2024 at 2:11 AM UTC
9Wrapped in a Ribbon
Give it to me when we get back, Give it to me whole, fully and beautiful. When we get out of this oddly disasterous place, Give it to me then. Be subtle then be loud, Give me the love without the loss. Just show me you know my soul, As I, too, know yours. Let them dance Evermore Because right now I may be In l*ve with you, No matter how little I let it show. Make sure you get home to my heart So you can give it to me when you get back. So come back, Just come back. We will always come back. - EP
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Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 2:13 PM UTC
Give it to me
I often contemplate the half a plate that I ate with half a face Half this juice is past its date I can tell by its after taste More than a little bitter.. And the only decency is buried deep beneath the middle But Now The bottom of the base of this cup is leaking too. Or Is that the regrets of my heart speaking through? ... It's hard feeling like peaking when its the weekend and you're thinking while everybody is sleeping All alone with no reason other than being a rolling stone That just can't get no satisfaction of his own I tainted that So paint it black Take it back And make it fast Please don't make it last I feel as naked as a monster with no Jason Mask I feel a weak grip on me... In a Kryptonite crib built with a crypt For me Plus a wet blanket stitched Just like a quilt! For me. I can't tip toe around these eggshells on stilts You see This poet is just a character I've imagined up To handle the damage I've been handed To saddle up And steadily battle these matters up Because the aftermath and after what is after us Disasterous If it catches you faster without an Acura Or master bus pass Must last through the night though Tomorrow. We'll bother to borrow somebody's light pole The sorrow So sour It gets more intense by the hour So pucker up and feel fates lips drip with power
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Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 5:05 PM UTC
Food for Thoth
You all are a gift, so gentle and pure. For those of you left it’s a wonder you endure. For those of you new to this disasterous world, Nothing can prepare you for the pain that’s ensured. Some lucky few will have mentors to help, But others not so will have to learn for themselves. I give you warning and word from the wise, This world isn’t meant for us, but we still have to try. We will be hurt, prosecuted, rejected; The world will throw at us it’s worst of intentions. No matter how hard it may be or may seem, Remember one day coming this pain is redeemed. It may not be soon, but never give in Sometime eventual your heart finally wins. The trials are hard, the tribulations worse, But everything has Reason, just keep to your course. I promise you all, those young and those old, Your time will come, though it might not seem so. You do not fight a lost battle, keep hold You will get through this, believe me, I know. You will find peace you’ve longed eventually And when that time comes, help the others to see.
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 10:42 AM UTC
Ode to the Kindhearted